


Sundark

by twixt_haw_and_thorne



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Eldritch, Explicit Sexual Content, Fey Creatures, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fishing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Monster Anatomy, Multi, Nesting, Other, Pack Family, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory, Slice of Life, Soft Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Stardew Valley AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, farming, softcore horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twixt_haw_and_thorne/pseuds/twixt_haw_and_thorne
Summary: The people of Sundark Valley live in fear of what lurks in the forest when dusk falls. After all, this world is home to the maturing children of the Duskmother, who feed from humans like cattle en masse, slaughter them for the sheer thrill of it. So Dimitri must be a defective one. Because he's beginning to adore the people of Sparrow Town and they begin to adore him before truly knowing what he is...
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dedue Molinaro/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Linhardt von Hevring, Linhardt von Hevring/Claude von Riegan, Linhardt von Hevring/Dedue Molinaro, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Linhardt von Hevring, too many to list - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 31





	1. Birth

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a monster-becoming-human story with as much fluff as one can fit into a pillow this size without bursting. I just wanna see Eldritch Horror Dimitri descend on this town with an intent to eat the people, and then falling in love with all of them. Learning to farm, harvest, fish, dance, enjoy life's simple pleasures, and build a family.
> 
> For art and fic updates, feel free to follow me @Mechanist_Macha

There was a certain measure of dusk that always settled over the little town in the valley. Hemmed in and trapped there by the teeth of the earth’s mountains, the buildings shivered with every passing hour of the day, knowing twilight would herald the time when the unknown shadows crawled through the forests. It was never truly sunny there, where the plateaus were so tall that the sun shone directly down in the four or so hours that surrounded the noontime, when the silent trees truly bore no shadow at all, did not fall over the suspicious townsfolk. It was for this time that the people waited for, this messenger of respite, this golden beam suspended and gone too quick.

But it was in dusk that Dimitri arrived.

He was not called Dimitri, not then, as all creatures came into this mortal plane bearing no identity, no name to speak, to share with their fellows. He crawled, silent, from the maw of the Duskmother, where the very stars were her teeth and the black sky was her lashing tongue. But everyone must leave their mother eventually. He could no longer cling to the fur of her breast no matter how much he wished to. She would visit, she promised, every time the Dusk and the Dawn met. He did not know what time that was, nor did he know what the passage of time meant at all, but he was reassured by her promise and the many thousands of feathers against his face as he pressed it to her cuffs, knowing he’d no longer be able to suckle at the blood she wept for all of her many millions of children.

No. He was alone.

He didn’t know what that meant either.

It was strange not to use his arms to cling to the earth as he’d swung from the Duskmother’s breast like a bat. He stood on shaking flesh, naked and vulnerable, cloaked only in his mother’s shadows for so long. He knew the sun was coming, and it filled him with shaking. He had to find a place to hide.

He stumbled from tree to tree, learning the scratch of bark and the whisper of leaves across his cheek, the clawing of thorn and the padding of damp, rainy earth. He shrank from the light--at first, he could see only a small spark and hissed, drawing into himself for fear he’d be attacked. He did not know how the light might hurt him, only that when he drew closer his eyes burned. There were more, too, and the sudden smacking of wooden spoons on metal pots and pans, the fearful chanting of a people who knew he would be coming, knew to keep him away.

These creatures of the dusk, they were not allowed here.

He turned and fled, afraid for his life, realizing now that it was a thing he could lose, could be shed like autumn’s apples and would leave him bare. Life was the only thing he had; he didn’t have Mother anymore. She had shed him.

He ran, finding it awkward and clumsy until his legs could find themselves to be sturdy and strong. Deer and foxes ran from him, wolves and owls raced with him, the moonless night watched over him until at last he found it, found the little cottage that had become a haven for the rats and feral cats. He burst inside, completely shocked to find a _barrier_ before him. The door cracked and splintered around him and he whimpered, feeling the newness of his skin split and weep. He fell to the floorboards, which hissed in un-welcome, and lapped at the iron of his own blood in shock. He had never bled before. A door had never stood to barr his path before now.

And there he died, bleeding and whimpering, alarmed by the pathetic sound of his own voice. When next the sunlight came, he woke in terror from his death.

He was alone. How had he woken up? His understanding was that death was the end. Perhaps he didn’t understand death at all. He managed to sit up, arranging his newfound limbs in a way that didn’t ache, and searched for some sliver of solace that would remind him of his Duskmother, search for help, for something to feed from. He was hungry, his body clawed for sustenance, but not knowing hunger, he wept for a moment. But no one came to feed him. He sat there crying out piteously until he realized that his mother could not hear him.

He crawled, swaying, to his feet again, his long claws scratching at the damaged wooden planks as he padded around, lumbering and lurching. Moving in this form was so difficult. And why only four legs? Why were his front legs shorter than his back ones?  
There he found the broken glass that showed him to himself. He appeared like a man, tall and strong with shoulders like the entirety of a ship’s mast, waist like a sapling. His hair was a moppish mane of gold, but it was dyed red with his blood, dried and matting. Splinters and thorns stuck from his chest, where the map of black markings that signified the Dusk stood brazen against flesh that was almost white as light. Why would his Duskmother give him such a form? He was so… _bright._

He didn’t know why he knew the reflection was himself, but the creatures of the Roving Dusk were not like the stupid worms of humanity, slithering on their bellies and unable to see past the tall grass. Wise, they were born already formed, and even if he didn’t know whether this form was beautiful or not, he understood the concept of beauty more intricately than the most learned of philosophers.

He touched his face, watching the Dusk marks scurry silently across his skin and hide, gathered on his back and spreading out the quiet letters of his language.

_Mother… why?_

His first thought tore its way loudly into his mind like an intruding root exploding into the earth. He reeled back, his eyes (a color he had never before seen, as it was a sky under the sun’s light) rolling back into his head.

He crouched there, breathing more thoughts into the void where no one could hear them. _What have I become? Am I mortal? When does the Dusk meet the Dawn? When is it_ **_now?_ ** These questions looped back over themselves until he realized he was moving his lips to do more than feed from his mother’s body. He was _speaking_ these thoughts into the ether, into the air. The vibrations of this sound returned to his ears and he was yet again shocked by the sounds he made, inelegant and clumsy, unlike his mother’s language.

He stood again, and fell, then stood once more. He was becoming used to the stretch of muscle, to the spring of movement when for so long he did not fill a space and then a different one by _moving._ The creature in the mirror looked so foolish, he thought, not moving like mother at all.

He looked to the remains of the door he had crashed through. Light streamed through, harsh and wicked, glaring and exposing. But he could… he could _stomach_ it now. Looking at it from a distance, anyway. And no infernal banging of pots and pans accompanied this light. This was not a torch, nothing but the sky’s single yellow eye which stared down unblinkingly over the valley for the scant few hours of day. He did not shrink from it this time. He moved closer to its warmth. How cruel, it mocked the heat of his mother’s body which was all he knew…

A sound from the outside that was not wind or beasts on the wing (or perhaps it was, what would he know?) caused his head to tilt with curiosity. Fear. Fear was becoming quite common to him now.

It was a sharp, black shadow which darkened the doorstep, looking amongst the wreckage coolly. Not a creature of dusk, but somehow not appearing like an enemy either, he stood with a body not wholly unlike Dimitri’s, yet standing on legs with knees which were reversed, enormous, scaled talons, his breast feathered with black like the wings folded across his spine in the middle, unlike any bird that existed.

“Dimitri.”

His voice was low, was dangerous, was smooth as silk and ragged as cliffsides as it rolled over him, thunderous and soothing. “That’s your name, right?”

Dimitri blinked, and now he knew it was true. The Duskmother had whispered his name to him every night, but ‘Dimitri’ was the closest jumble of sounds that he could make with this mortal mouth.

“Yes.” And it was. His voice, too, was deep, he realized, pulling himself up. And he was bigger than this one, at least vertically. Dimitri certainly did not bear wings like the night which made this stranger so wide. “Who are you?”

The bird touched his clawed fingers to his breast and bent his torso over it, bowing in a gesture of respect. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius,” he said simply. “I am sent by Her Majesty, Winter, to take care of you.”

Winter. Dimitri knew her. Knew her well. She shared his Mother, born before him, shed like a fruit unto the world. He had never felt lonely with his mother, but he had missed his sister when she was gone from him. “Take care of me?” he asked, again tilting that maned head to the side. Everything was becoming quickly instinctual; he would not labor in the lack of understanding for as long as the mortals dwelt.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius nodded. “Yes. The Winter Court takes care of the children of the Duskmother until they are strong enough to make their own way here. So I am assigned to you as your guardian.” He still did not step into the broken cottage. There was something so cutting, so unnerving about his tone.

“What about Winter? Will she not see me?”

“Edelgard,” the bird corrected quietly. “Here, she is called Edelgard. And yes, she will see you when the seasons allow.” Dimitri did not know what seasons were, that was clear by the look on his face. The fey would have to be patient, he realized, not something he was gifted with. “She will see you later. It is spring, and she is dead.”  
“I see.” Dimitri furrowed his handsome brow. “I died in the night, though I seem to have awoken again.”

Felix shook his head. “You _slept,_ Dimitri.” He had been instructed to show all children of the Duskmother the respect of their being. He called Edelgard ‘Your Majesty’ when before her. But this one was newly birthed; he didn’t see why he should call _him_ ‘Your Majesty’ when he did not yet know sleep from death. He was still just a whelp. “You will exhaust yourself and sleep many times. Some even find it pleasant.”

Dimitri considered this. He supposed, other than being extremely terrifying, it hadn’t felt painful and he hadn’t feared it as much as sunlight. “Sleep,” he mused quietly, still getting used to his own voice. He was grateful, he realized, for Edelgard to send him someone to guide him through this new world, but he longed to see her, to feel her firm and guiding hand against his back rather than this cold, detached sort of being. He wasn’t even of the Dusk.

“You’ll need to adjust to the sunlight,” Felix rolled his eyes and stepped back, beckoning with his talons. “There are many dangers who dwell in the sun. They’ll take advantage of your weakness if you do not, and kill you.”  
Kill. That meant death, Dimitri understood that, at least. Death for the recipient of the killing.

He feared the light, but he needed to not be. That, he could understand too. He approached the deceiving warmth, though, not wanting to anger Felix any further. The bird watched him step towards the sunbeams, wary, hesitant, and wondered how this lowly beast was meant to be a great strength, a power to the world. He knew many of the Duskmother’s children, but he did not know any of them to be weak, stupid things like this. He knew he had only just been born, but he had hoped to be assigned to one of his older kin, one who might show him the true talent for shadow.

“Hurry up,” he snapped, folding his arms tightly over his narrow breast. “Your enemies will not wait for you to inch around like a worm.”

“What is a worm?”

Felix wanted to just kick him into the light. “You. _You’re_ a worm,” he hissed.

Dimitri didn’t think that was right, he didn’t _feel_ like whatever a worm was, but he had pissed this fey off and so let his new mouth fall shut and stumbled into the light without hesitating this time. His eyes seared with pain, but his skin seemed to love the feeling of the sun’s rays piercing him through. The Dusk markings rushed away to hide in the shade of his body where the sun could not see.

“It won’t hurt you,” Felix sighed. _Finally._ “Unless you linger in it for too long. Your body is fragile right now. You have to feed to make it strong.”

Dimitri was admiring the sheen of his pink-white skin under the golden glow. “How must I feed?”

“Humans,” Felix explained with a flap of his wings, stretching them out tightly before refolding them. “You must lure them here while you are weak. Earn their trust. After you have fed enough, you will not have to trick them, you will feed on them at your leisure.” He flipped his long dark hair over his feathery shoulder.

Dimitri wrinkled his new nose, amazed by the expressiveness of this form. It showed his disgust without him having to voice it. “Humans…”

“Yes.” This repulsion, at least, seemed to be shared by Felix. “They are the lowly beasts who populate many pieces of this rock, but their flesh is soft. I will help you to bring them, willing and pliant, to your den.”

“My den…” Dimitri looked around. He supposed he had sort of claimed the broken cottage as his den already. He peered past the rotten boards into the small dark space. It would do. He just wished he had some of the fur of his mother’s body to make it soft. He clutched his burning stomach, empty. It made the most unpleasant, churning noise.

“Here.” With two strokes of his powerful wings, Felix burst into the air, showering dark feathers down on Dimitri’s head. He flew over the trees and out of sight for a moment. Dimitri shielded his eyes as he searched the vast blue sky for him. When he reappeared, he bore an armful of strange things, lumpy and colorful. “Fruits can sustain you for a time,” he assured him, passing over one of them. “This is an apple.”

Dimitri held it up to his eye. The green color was pretty, he thought, pleasing to the eye. For the first time, he brought physical food to his teeth and bit down. His teeth were meant for tearing flesh and muscle from bone, but the flesh of the apple was torn well enough by their sharpness. The color was as sour and bright as its color and Dimitri very nearly spit it out. Tasting something for the first time was always bound to be an experiment. “Well,” he coughed after swallowing. “I suppose it will have to do, then, won’t it?” After some consideration, he didn’t think it tasted so bad.

“Indeed.” Felix shrugged. Fruits like that (though apples were more commonly grown in autumn) were more for the Summer fey than those of the Winter Court like himself so he understood his distaste. “I’ll show you how to get them for yourself.” He did not relish the idea of teaching him how to grasp the concept of trading with humans, let alone working for money. But he just had to hope that one day, Dimitri would be grateful enough to share some of the Dusk essence with him like so many of Felix’s companions now bore. Attaining such a power… it was the only thing worth raising a completely weak and incapable Duskling. Of course _he_ would get a useless one. “For now, eat these, then I’ll show you how to get water.”

He led Dimitri to the river just as the sun was beginning to hide behind the mountains, bathing the entire valley in an iridescent scarlet shine. He had very nearly lost patience with Dimitri after he shunned the taste of all of the fruits except the apple (and only the green one, he wouldn’t touch the red), and now he hovered just above the treetops, facing the setting sun whilst Dimitri clumsily bathed himself, clearing away the splinters and his own blood. As soon as the offending objects were removed, the markings leapt to repair the wounds instantly, leaving little white scars in some areas that Dimitri marveled with a touch.

Felix considered Dimitri when compared with the Duskling that his brother, Glenn, had served. Even when Edelgard was as new as this one, she had faced the world fearlessly, unflinching. And when she took the Winter under her wings, she had granted Glenn the power of cold. Now, wherever his brother went, all shivered in fear under his new skills. His renown was unparalleled. Felix desired that greatly, but he was beginning to fear that this Duskling was too weak to give him anything resembling power.

“Look! Felix!”

The great fey looked down at the river where Dimitri still stood, knee-deep, triumphantly holding up a wriggling fish. “This fruit is _moving!”_

By the vast Duskmother herself, Felix swore that this had better be worth it.

* * *

The population of Sparrow Town increased by two as a newcomer and his horse arrived at the manor lodge owned by the richest people in the valley. Lord Holst Goneril and his spoiled sister Hilda descended from the porch. “Sylvain!” Hilda cried, throwing her arms over the visitor as soon as he dismounted. “I’m _so_ happy you’re here! Marianne already went to sleep, but we can eat with her tomorrow!” She kissed both of his cheeks and let him return the gesture.

“Hilda,” he chuckled. “You scamp.” He ruffled her hair as she protested and then nodded to the manor’s lord. “And Lord Holst! How are you?”

Holst shook his head, his smile stretched tired but always big and genuine. “I would think a Margrave’s son from the Upper Kingdoms outranks me. I’m not really a lord, I just inherited the biggest fields, you know.”

Sylvain shrugged. “What is a King but a man with the biggest house?” he countered. “But fine. I won’t call you Lord if _you_ can remember that I’m not a Margrave’s son here.”

That had been why he escaped to this dark, remote place. After all, why else would anyone descend the Steppes to Sundark Valley unless they were trying to escape the pressures of their former lives? He was a Margrave’s son no longer. He desired peace. He did not want to fight anymore, he did not want to be surrounded by simpering sycophants who smiled and lifted their skirts for him without even asking. The life so many envied was a prison to him. While the valley’s people were poor, they were honest. There were no lords here. No titles to recognize. Poor but honest and free.

“How long do you plan to stay?” Hilda asked, rocking on her heels. “I mean, it’s a tiny place so there’s not much going on.”

Sylvain shook his head. He didn’t plan to stay forever, of course, but after the ceaseless wars of his father, ‘not much going on’ was exactly what he desired. “Not sure. Probably a year or two. This is Lady, by the way,” he patted his mare’s flank and she lovingly bumped his shoulder with her muzzle in return. “Shall we go in?” He didn’t know why but… the forests in the dark were as quiet and unnerving as any endless cave he could ever imagine.

Hilda took his hand eagerly. “Yeah, I’ll show you your room! You can’t sleep until we chase away the spirits though.” She rolled her eyes. “People are superstitious around here, so… every night you’ll hear a racket just after dinner.”

“Fun,” he laughed. He was overqualified, overeducated, overcultured to live in such a place, but he must be lacking _something_ they had, to have never remembered a moment of true happiness. He hoped to be taught such secrets, at least, and if he couldn’t find them here, then he’d go somewhere else until he did. Hilda, if nothing else, was fun herself. “I want to join,” he insisted. “People _actually_ bang pots and parade around, I thought that was just us nobles being jerks.”

“Nope. It keeps the monsters at bay,” she rolled her eyes. “So they say. _I’ve_ never seen any.”

Holst continued to smile, but his voice was unusually serious. “All the same, Sylvain,” he said quietly as they took the stairs up. “Best be on your guard when dusk falls. All right?”

Sylvain shot him a look that he wasn’t sure even he could interpret for himself. “Sure. I don’t imagine there’s much to do around here at night anyway.”

“No,” Holst agreed, laughing. “That’s why I started the library. Really, it’s our old tool shed, but I think some of the people really enjoy it.” He gestured quietly at Hilda’s back as she leapt up ahead of them. “She hates working, but she’ll take the library well. The job is just gossiping and handing out books.”

“Well, we all know she’s good at one of those things.”

“Yeah.” Holst put Sylvain’s bag down at the top of the stairs. “You sure you’re up to farmwork, Sylvain?” he asked. “It’s not exactly easy.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I can’t _not_ try after all. You were kind enough to take me in, even without my father’s money.”

Holst shrugged. “Money is nothing to me. I’m just happy to see Hilda so upbeat for once. Only Marianne is normally able to make her smile since we moved here.” He turned his back. “I’ll leave you two for now, get Lady set up nice and cozy. We can have coffee later if you’re not too exhausted from the trip.”

As he disappeared down the stairs, Sylvain could hear the sudden string of loud clattering not too far away. _Monsters._ Please. He dumped his bag on his bed, hardly listening to Hilda complain about the noise.

Sylvain knew the real monsters of the world were within men.

  
  


Not far away, the noise drove both Felix and Dimitri back to the new den, keeping the villagers safe and whole for one more night.

  
  



	2. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the Duskling to begin working on his 'charm,' the skill necessary to begin luring his meals back to his new den...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: none

Even though the citizens of Sparrow Town feared the night, not all of them feared the dark. Dedue rose before the sun, unlike most, leaving the warm curl of his beloved in bed behind. There was so much he needed to do, things that could not be left undone and things that most certainly could wait alike. But he was not the type to shirk a chore, even ones that didn't always need doing.

He was a mountain of a man, and like a mountain, quiet. He moved with more grace when he should be an impact on the ground with each step, yet he didn't even wake the man in the bed when he crossed the room and closed the door. The washing was first; it was best to have it ready to dry when the sun hit the valley just right. He breakfasted on a small, flat oatcake which he carried out with him in a neat little handkerchief instead of taking his time at the table. There was never enough time for the work, it seemed to him.

The trees were silent this early, having made their cacophony of the night and now laying to rest. Dedue stood on his porch, staring out at them, wondering at their secrets as all of Sparrow Town did, then shook his head and got to work scrubbing. The little stream ran just between the edges of Dedue’s farmstead, making a discernible border between safety and the forests. He was not unused to the feeling of being watched, and he smiled at the shadows of the trees which blurred into one dark, as if saying good morning to a friend, his hands worked raw on the scrubbing board. He never knew who or what looked out at him, but he was a sturdy man, strong of body and quick of intuition, and besides… nothing ever came out anyway.

This early pre-dawn, Dimitri was the one looking out at him. He hid in the underbrush and remained still as stone, watching Dedue work. Behind him, Felix stood, less concerned about sticking out with his black-feathered body. “That is a human,” he told him quietly.

“They look like me,” Dimitri commented, surprised. The only two beings he’d seen, other than scattering beasts and birds, had been himself in the broken mirror and Felix, who looked vastly different from the waist down.

Felix scowled. “He might  _ look  _ like you, but he’s nothing like you.” Said with disdain because, after all, even if Dimitri was a pathetic weakling of a Dusk, he was still infinitely greater than the spawn of the earth. “He’s a mortal, weak and fragile. They will become your prey.”

Dimitri nodded solemnly, watching as the human, once again, looked up almost directly at him and smiled. He was caught, he feared, and froze entirely stiff, searching that distant smile for some ill intent, and finding either that it was too hidden or there was none. “Can he… see us?”

“No,” Felix assured him. “Their eyes are made for sunlight. They can’t look into shadow.”

That would certainly make them easy prey, Dimitri thought. “You said they sleep, like I do. They would not see me then. Should I not just… take them while they are sleeping?”

Felix regarded the back of his head where he was standing behind him. Dimitri was, at least, beginning to  _ think _ like a Duskling. “You could do that,” he nodded. “But you are still too…  _ new _ to take a risk in feeding inside the limits of their village. If they wake, they will alert others, and they will all descend on you all at once. Better that you learn patience and timing for now, build up your cunning and your charm.”

Dimitri turned his head to look at him. “Charm?”

That slight movement had Dedue look up again. He thought he saw a flash of yellow, where he’d never detected anything moving before at this time of morning. He stilled, a wet shirt half-doused in the stream, watching closely. While it was true humans could not look into shadow, the sun was just beginning to crest over the valley and he swore it reflected off of something yellow, the color of saffron blooms, in the darkness of the trees.

“Dedue!”

The spell of uncertainty was broken as he heard that his beloved had awoken, running towards him with a big, beaming smile, like the freckled sun himself and clutching something. “You forgot your hat!”

Dedue peeked back at the shadows, but he saw no yellow shapes, so he stood and turned to greet him. “Ashe,” he nodded back, receiving his embrace happily. “I had hoped not to wake you.”

Ashe peered up through the silvery fringe of his bangs. “Honestly, I couldn’t sleep much once you got up,” he confessed, still grinning as he reached up on tiptoe to press the wide-brimmed straw hat onto Dedue’s head. “Here! In case you burn!”

“I do not burn, Ashe,” Dedue chuckled, but all the same, he stroked Ashe’s dusted cheek. “You can keep me company if you like. I was about to go collect the eggs.”

Dimitri watched, bright-eyed as the two humans walked off, hand in hand. They looked the same, but so different from one another. Large and small. Broad and thin. Dark and light. He was surprised that he was not one of them, given that they walked the same way. He felt like he looked a little like both of them in a way. He looked down at his hands, large and spindled like clumsy spiders, and imagined what it would be like to hold hands with another like that. Something painful happened to his chest when he locked his own fingers together.

“What are you doing?” Felix demanded. “Let’s go.”

He obeyed.

* * *

It wasn’t like Sylvain was averse to waking early. He often had no choice back at the Margrave’s Estate. After all, even though he was the ‘spoilt lapdog’ of the Gautier household, he actually worked incredibly hard; at least, he had of late. The last three years had been spent training with the lance, sword, bow, anything he could get his hands on. Because he was not afraid to die, but he was afraid to die knowing that he had never once known happiness.

But Holst and Hilda had not waken him when they got up (though Hilda herself was still in bed) like they had promised. Holst knew his travels must have left him exhausted and he’d just as soon let him rest until he was ready to participate. Still, Sylvain would have woken with the sun, and he did, it was just that the sun didn’t rise in Sundark Valley until half the morning was already over.

Cursing as he stumbled out of his straw-lumpy bed, he tried to yank his boots on while he was still standing, hopping around like a mad rabbit.

Lady had already been fed and groomed. Bare of heavy saddle and irritating bridle, she was trotting happily around the large pen with the other horses, happy for their company. Still, when Sylvain whistled, she came running to the fence, incredibly fond of her master as he was of her. Stroking her nose, he smiled apologetically as Holst approached. “Am I so annoying to have around that you’d let me sleep in so late?”

Holst chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag he carried tied to his belt. “Of course not. But you looked so tired when I stepped in, I figured I’d best let you sleep.”

Sylvain looked at the pinkening sky. “What time is it?”

“Nearly ten.”

“Wow… you weren’t kidding about daylight down here,” Sylvain mumbled, alarmed.

“Yes, the sun shines from about ten to two down here,” Holst nodded. “Although the Dusk seems to last for hours before it finally sets.” His smile was thin at that.

“Bummer.”

“Well.” Holst shrugged. “Have you eaten? I’m sure Hilda hasn’t. She’ll make you something. We even have some coffee.”

“What a luxury.”

“Well, down here, I promise, it is.”

Sylvain promised to help out as soon as he’d eaten, so he trudged back inside, wondering how in the hell he’d get used to four hours of sunlight a day when Hilda greeted him, still in her nightclothes and yawning as she pulled up her frilly mask. “Oh, good,” she mused. “You missed Holst’s grumpy hours.”

“When’s that?” he asked, poking around the eggs a staff member had shoved at him before he even asked for coffee.

“About six to eight.” She sat down and thanked the man who put a full plate in front of her. “So I’m going to introduce you around today. Marianne is already up and about too, we’ll see her first.”

“Ah, sorry Hilda. Promised Holst I’d help out.”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “What did you do that for? No. You’re going to put on your fancy, uptown shirt and meet everyone.” She took no argument, so Sylvain had to apologize to Holst, who didn’t seem all that surprised as Hilda dragged him away.

All the people of Sundark Valley were quaint. Hilda and Holst were the richest people they ever knew, and Sylvain was happy to let them think that he was just from some other farm in the Kingdom, although he could tell they suspected he was much different from them. Marianne was Hilda’s ‘paramour,’ as she described it, and Sylvain had to say he was surprised. Having known Hilda for many years, he would have assumed that any lover of hers was either the tall, handsome sort or someone as bubbly as she was. She was neither.

“Um… hello.” The way she peered out from her face like it was a cave she preferred to hide in was strange to say the least. She was pretty, he gave her that, in that sort of arcadian way. Floral and waifish, like any milkmaid. And she  _ was _ a milkmaid at that, taking care of more animals on her little property than any Sylvain had ever seen in one place. She currently had a hen sitting contentedly in her arms.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sylvain smiled quietly, afraid she’d dash off. Did she ever sleep? The circles around her eyes were as dark as the night itself. “Hilda’s told me a lot about you.”

She looked panicked at that. “Sh-she did?”

“Of course, silly!” Hilda gushed, wrapping her arms around her skinny waist and dragging her in for a peck on the cheek which made the hen complain. Marianne’s blush actually gave color to her gaunt little face, Sylvain thought with relief. She might have been a very attractive ghoul for all he knew. “Why wouldn’t I talk about my little fawn?”

“Little fawn,” Sylvain brightened. “Now  _ that’s  _ a cute nickname!” Marianne stumbled through each and every interaction, but she seemed very happy when Hilda was around and Sylvain thought that was sweet. He met a few others that morning, although most of them didn’t have too much time to stop and chat, including a couple that intrigued Sylvain greatly, given that neither of them looked at all like farmers.

“Oh, I raise horses!” one of them brayed at that assertion, as loud and as boisterous as any had a right to be in this shabby little place. He was meticulously groomed, not unlike Hilda’s fussiness with her appearance, bouncing red curls pulled back into an equally bouncy ponytail. “So I wouldn’t suppose you’d call me a farmer!”

“Ferdie,” Hilda chastised. “You live on a farm. You’re a farmer.”

“It’s a  _ ranch,  _ Hilda,” he tsked right back, waggling his finger at her while she giggled. Sylvain immediately liked him. His partner, on the other hand, gave him the creeps. He looked like he might blend in with the dusk-dark forests themselves. It wasn’t necessarily his look, although his dark hair definitely helped that image, it was just this eerie glow about him, his bright eyes holding on to all the sinister energy of the night here in Sundark.

“Farmer or rancher,” Hubert interceded, “You live in the valley. This is where your chosen domicile resides. There is little point in such distinctions based on pride, Ferdinand.”

“And you?” Sylvain asked, too curious. “Are you a farmer or a rancher?”

“Neither,” the tall, willowy branch of a man nodded. “I am here on Imperial business.”

Sylvain’s brows shot into his hairline. “Imperial business in the Kingdom?”

“Correct. Her Imperial Majesty requires some knowledge of the denizens who dwell beyond the trees of Sundark Valley. I have express permission from King Rufus himself to take part in these studies.”

“Studies?” Sylvain felt dull, asking so many questions, but this was the first real interesting person he’d met here. “You’re studying the people here? Like an anthropologist?”

“Not at all.” Hubert’s smirk, while unmoving, seemed to intensify. “I am researching the creatures of the forests and how they interact with their co existing habitat.” He gestured at the village as a whole. “I suppose you could call me a… wildlife ecologist.”

Sylvain had no idea what that meant. “Ah, so like… you study the monsters that people think live around here.”

“Absolutely not,” Hubert replied in a way that suggested he absolutely did. Sylvain blinked at him. He had far too many questions now, piling up and clamoring to be asked, but now he wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation.

“Come on, Sylvain!” Hilda complained, tugging at his arm. “There’s still so many people to meet!” So they said goodbye to the very strange couple and went off down the packed dirt path that passed for a road in Sparrow Town. “Don’t mind Hubert,” Hilda sighed, rolling her eyes as soon as they were far enough away. “He’s here on orders from Emperor Felicity, apparently, but he’s honestly just sort of… weird.”

Sylvain nodded, and he agreed, but he definitely wanted to ask more of the strange man.

“Oh, Dedue! Hello!” he heard Hilda say but he was so lost in thought that, for a moment, he didn’t recognize the man in front of him for a man since he was not unlike a thick tree trunk. He blinked and looked up, something Sylvain didn’t normally have to do given his height. Well, however tall he was, this man was bigger and he was thicker by half. Sylvain suddenly lost his words looking at him and Hilda immediately saw this and snickered. “Don’t even think about it, Sylvain! He’s  _ married, _ right Dedue?”

Dedue smiled a little bit, just a little twitch and Sylvain’s heart stammered a bit. Fuck, how  _ handsome.  _ “I am,” he said quietly, his voice reverberating like the most pleasant of vibrations from an enormous, bronze bell. “Ashe should be washing dishes by the stream.”

“Ashe is  _ such  _ a sweetheart,” Hilda cooed, wrapping her arm around Sylvain’s. “Anyway, this is Sylvain! He’s from the big cities, like near the capital, right?”

Sylvain swallowed.  _ Fuck.  _ It wasn’t often he saw men bigger (or more handsome) than himself. “Pleasure to meet you, Dedue,” he said, swearing his voice was more high-pitched than usual as he offered his hand.

Dedue nodded, taking his hand. Dammit, even his grip was the perfect combination of strong and gentle. Well, this wouldn’t be the first time Sylvain coaxed someone into infidelity. Quickly, he caught himself. No. He was different now. He didn’t want to stir up trouble. It just seemed so  _ unfair  _ that Dedue was off-limits. “I am pleased to meet you as well. Would you like to come in? We are about to have lunch.”

“Yes,” Sylvain breathed too quickly and then dropped Dedue’s hand, realizing he’d been holding on for too long.

Meeting Ashe just made his longing feel worse since he was such a cute little ray of sunshine, serving them a crisp little radish salad and fresh-squeezed lemonade. He was the type of little angel no one could even imagine hurting. “Dedue can grow anything here,” he praised his husband, putting his hand on Dedue’s shoulder. “That’s why we can have lemons even with such little sunlight!”

“You have magic?” Sylvain asked a bit too quickly.

“A little,” Dedue confessed with a nod, then proceeded to talk of how he could enrich the soil with it. “It is a skill I learned from my homeland. Duscur,” he finished helpfully, since Sylvain was clearly about to ask.

“Ah.” The conversation dropped awkwardly. Sylvain’s own father had been enlisted in the campaign that nearly destroyed that country altogether. Dedue, however, drank his lemonade, and seemed to bear him no ill will that he could pick up on. It was possible he had no idea, and it was equally possible he knew and didn’t care. Sylvain hoped to the Goddess he didn’t know.

As they departed with Sylvain tripping all over himself to shake Dedue’s hand again, Hilda slapped his arm once they were a safe distance down the road. “Sylvain!” she sneered. “You devilish boy!”

_ “What?”  _ he complained, but he knew exactly what she was getting at. “I was just  _ looking.” _

“Oh please,” she rolled his eyes. “You were  _ scouting.” _

“I wasn’t!” he insisted, but they were interrupted by a sudden noise in the underbrush in the path ahead of them. Hilda gasped, shocked. Nothing,  _ nothing  _ ever came out from the forests. Not even a wayward deer herd or a trundling badger. Birds only flew overhead. Suddenly, all her suspicions about there being no monsters at all culminated to true belief. She clutched at Sylvain’s arm fearfully. He too was startled, more by her behavior than the noise, and realized he didn’t have a weapon at all. He hadn’t thought a small farming community would require him to carry a  _ blade.  _ Still, he had his fists, he’d protect Hilda best he could.

But it wasn’t a monster that stumbled out onto the path. It wasn’t some grotesque shadow like they had half been expecting, it was a person. To them, it was human.

Because, as Felix had said, humans could not look into the shadow.

“Oh…” Hilda relaxed a fraction, but she still clung to Sylvain’s arm as she regarded the man, because he was still a stranger to her in a small village where everyone knew everyone within the first day spent in Sparrow Town. “Um… hello?” she asked, confused.

Dimitri looked up at her, taking in the two potential meals before him. One of them was small but she looked ripe, delicious. The other one was bigger, perhaps his size, but only in mortal form. He could not match up to the size of a Duskling’s power. Or so Felix had told him. After all, Dimitri had yet to manifest any of the power that he had been told he was supposed to have. So he didn’t really know. He looked ripe as well, like two fruits waiting to be picked.

He licked his lips. They smelled even closer up close.

“Hello?” Sylvain repeated Hilda’s question, frowning at him and his strange behavior. There was only a scant twenty paces between them and this man looked strong as well, so Sylvain was understandably nervous when Hilda indicated that she didn’t recognize him. A shame, he thought, because there were many things about the strange man that Sylvain found as handsome as Dedue. Amidst the torn shirt, breeches, and cloak, the bits of man that he could see, the pale skin, the bright hair, and deep pits of blue for eyes were strangely alluring. Unnatural.  _ Attractive.  _

He was given this form, after all, to attract mortals and it was  _ working. _ Neither Hilda and Sylvain could look away.

Dimitri cocked his head at them. He’d been coached over and over again, nearly all night, in interacting with humans; he knew just what to say, thanks to Felix.

“I’m lost.”

Felix had dressed him, given him ragged clothing that humans wore around here, although the boots had not fit at all. The thick padding of the soles of Dimitri’s feet gave him enough protection from sharp rocks and thorns anyway. Still, that added to the pity the mortals would surely compound upon him. The strangeness of bits of cloth hanging off of his arms and legs, restricting his movement, covering his skin from the sun was unpleasant to say the least, but he had been instructed  _ not to take them off  _ under any circumstances, as humans had some strange ideals of modesty. A concept Dimitri still had yet to grasp. These two, he thought, looked even more uncomfortable in layers and layers of things. They also looked fearful. He supposed that made sense. He was a little nervous himself.

“Oh,” Hilda responded, relaxing a bit further. “You’re lost. Well, that makes sense. How did you get down into the Valley?”

He shook his blonde head. “I don’t know.” He was supposed to say that if there was something he didn’t know how to answer.

Hilda and Sylvain exchanged a glance, but Sylvain, too, relaxed. This poor man, he really did seem lost. He didn’t even have any shoes. “Well… maybe he hit his head?” he mouthed to Hilda, watching the owlish way the stranger blinked at them, as if he had to consciously remember to do it. “Should we invite him back to yours?”

Hilda nodded. “I’m Hilda,” she called across the distance to him. “This is Sylvain. Who are you?”

“I don’t know.” So far, this was going well, Dimitri thought, except then the two humans looked at each other again, confused.

“You… don’t remember your name?” Sylvain asked.

Oh, shoot. His  _ name.  _ “Dimitri,” he said hastily, worrying he had messed up. “I am Dimitri.”

Sylvain nodded, the one with bright red hair. “Sure. Nice to meet you, Dimitri.”

“It  _ is  _ nice,” Dimitri supplied happily. Safe, back on track.

“Sure. Um… want to come with us?” Hilda offered cautiously.

In the trees, Felix rolled his eyes. This Duskling lacked the sort of charm that most others of the Duskmother possessed, the kind that lured humans in effortlessly, graceful and seductive. But, he supposed, Dimitri’s ineptitude was its own sort of charm. Well, he couldn’t follow him into town, he’d be too noticeable. Even in a human form, suddenly having two new strangers would be too out of the ordinary, draw too much attention to the both of them. He’d just have to hope that they didn’t tear him to shreds. Besides, he had a report to make to the Winter Queen, so he winged off silently, keeping to just the skimming of the canopy so he didn’t draw any attention to himself. Dimitri was on his own.

“Yes,” Dimitri told Hilda firmly. “I’m lost.”

“So you said,” Hilda nodded as Dimitri came closer. She had lost all of her unease, such easy prey these mortals were. She found him mistakenly  _ harmless. _ “Well, this is Sparrow Town… where are you from?”

Oh… Felix had told him the name of a place, but he already forgot. He hesitated a bit too long.

“Well, that’s okay,” Hilda supplied instead, waving him forward, closer to them. She seemed to think it was fine since he wasn’t carrying a weapon under his cloak. Sylvain, too, seemed to ease the closer Dimitri came to them. There really was something about him. Something sweet, like biting into a hard nut and finding something soft and honeyed within. “Come on, we’ll get some food in you and maybe you can tell us how you got here.”

Dimitri nodded, coming a bit too close, brushing shoulders with Sylvain. Sylvain shivered, his mortal body stricken with a longing that he couldn’t name. It wasn’t lust, but it  _ was _ a desire for closeness. Intimacy of an otherworldly nature. He found himself temporarily speechless, and his next words didn’t make much sense to him. “Here, lean on me if you need,” he breathed, offering his shoulder even though the stranger hadn’t shown any sign of fatigue or weakness.

Just a perk of human trust, Dimitri supposed, to touch them. And he had longed to since he had seen Ashe and Dedue holding hands across the stream. He smiled and both Hilda and Sylvain were struck with another blow of longing as the lost man rested his weight against Sylvain. This human was… warm. How might he taste?

They walked Dimitri into Sparrow Town, unaware of the crawling Dusk ink across his back and shoulders, writhing towards the scent of human blood.

  
  



	3. Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri's really put his little Duskling foot in it now. Humans have followed him home and he completely forgets to devour them. Meanwhile, the Summer Queen's caught wind of another Duskling that must be slain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New characters to introduce! Yay! And the promise of a party, too!
> 
> For fic updates and (sometimes) art, follow me! @Mechanist_Macha

It was a strange dinner table to sit at with their new guest, unclaimed by any country of origin, city, or even farmstead. Holst, Hilda, Sylvain, and the two servants Holst employed stared openly as Dimitri devoured everything on his plate in nearly one bite. He didn’t use a fork, he just picked up the plate and emptied it into his gullet like a pelican, and with such speed that Sylvain worried for a moment that he was going to swallow the plate along with the meal. Hilda just put her fork down, having completely lost her appetite, but Sylvain put his fork down just to watch in fascination.

“You, uh… you’re hungry, huh?” he asked, awestruck. Hilda kicked him under the table.

“Starving!” Dimitri replied happily, licking the gravy from his chops. Sylvain couldn’t help but find him somehow endearing, even though there was something definitely strange about him. “Is there more?” He perked up as Hilda silently pushed her plate over to him.

“So,” Holst cleared his throat. “Dimitri, you can’t remember where you’re from… do you remember what it looked like? Forested, rocky, desert? Any of that ringing a bell? We’d be happy to lend you a horse to get home if need be.”

Dimitri looked up as he lifted the second plate, briefly paused. “Lend me a horse?” he asked, but not in that surprised-and-grateful way a stranger usually would, more like he was trying to understand the meaning of the phrase. “Oh, home is here now,” he shook his head, then threw his head back, hardly swallowing or chewing at all. Sylvain could only stare, amazed. “This place is where I live. Well not  _ this  _ place,” Dimitri said, thinking. “I have a den.”

“A  _ den?”  _ Hilda repeated. “What are you, a wild animal?” Now it was Sylvain’s turn to kick  _ her. _

“You don’t need to live in a cave,” Holst sighed, clearly reluctant to offer but too kind not to. “We have room here if you wish to stay.”

Dimitri stared at him. Were they trying to trap him? There were five humans here, all of which smelled delicious, but he knew because Felix had told him; he was not strong enough to take them all at once even if he wanted to, and they would hurt him if he tried. “No,” he said, too quickly, missing Hilda’s sigh of relief.

Holst frowned. “Well, it wouldn’t be right to put a stranger out into the night. There’s dangerous things in the woods, you know. How  _ did  _ you get through the trees unscathed anyway?”

Dimitri blinked at him. “I… walked?”

Silence reigned at the table and Sylvain wanted to laugh. There was something so innocent about this beautiful stranger. “Hey, it’s okay. They let me stay here, they’re good people,” he promised, gesturing warmly with his hands. “Why don’t you try and see if you like it?”

“N-no, I…” Dimitri stood up abruptly, shaking the table as he struck it with his knees. “I have a den already, I don’t want to stay here!” He was half-shouting, unaware how panicked he seemed. Felix was right, these humans were trying to cage him!

“Okay, okay!” Holst hastily amended, empty hands up in a show of peace. “Does your uh… den have a blanket or anything? Something to keep you warm?”

Whatever a blanket was, Dimitri was pretty sure the broken cottage didn’t have one, and he  _ had  _ been cold. “Yes, um…” Gratitude,  _ gratitude. _ “Thank you.” He sat back down, hopeful that they weren’t about to try and keep him here again.

“So,” Hilda piped up, staring openly at him with her elbows on the table. “You don’t know where you’re from or how you got here. Is there anything you  _ do  _ know beyond your name?” she asked, trying to be gentle but definitely in her curious, gossipy sort of way.

They all stared at him, waiting.

Dimitri finally said, after thinking about it for a minute, “I like green apples.”

* * *

Felix was knelt before the Winter Queen in all her splendor, as best as he  _ could  _ kneel with his raven-like legs. He could see his brother out of the corner of his sharp eye, standing smugly by the Queen’s side, and felt jealousy rip through him again even though in truth Glenn and Felix had nothing but brotherly love and affection for one another.

“I should hope I don’t need to remind you,” Edelgard said coolly, her back to him. “You don’t need to kneel to me, Felix.” She had tucked her long white hair into a braid which circled her head, giving her the regal appearance of a crown even though she bore none.

Felix honestly  _ had  _ forgotten. The previous queen had been so different before the Duskling that was Edelgard showed up and dethroned her in a fury of feathers and blood. “Sorry,” he mumbled, straightening up again.

“Are we not like family?” she asked, turning to look at him. “After all, your brother took care of me when I was small and weak.”

“You were hardly weak,” he reminded her.

“True.” She paused, looking out into the pines of her new home away from the Duskmother. “How fares my little brother?”

Felix hesitated. He was indeed here to give a report but honestly, for all he knew, Dimitri had blown it and was being beaten to death by humans about now. That was the level of confidence he had in that particular Duskling. “He’s… still adjusting,” he replied, strained as he glanced up at Glenn. Glenn shot back a worried look.

“You don’t have to sweeten the truth,” Edelgard sighed, resting the talons of her elbows on the throne of holly and thorn bushes. “Tell me plainly. Is he actually adjusted?”

“...no,” Felix allowed, his shoulders tense and square as though expecting to receive punishment from her even though she’d never given him any indication that she might. “He seems weak and slow to understanding, Your Majesty. He falters.”

She nodded, the solemnity of her position weighing on her head. “I was afraid of that. He was always the most in need of Mother’s attention,” she sighed, gnawing at her lip in worry. She wanted to run and help Dimitri, feed him humans until he was sufficiently powerful enough to stand on his own against them, but it was not Winter and her power was here. Besides, if she rushed to solve every one of his problems, he would become dependent on her. But she also didn’t want him to perish. “Very well. Felix, if you wish it, I will assign you to a different task.” Relief spread through him; maybe she’d give him over to help another of the Dusk and he’d receive his power that way. But then, “Glenn, would you be willing to take over in his stead?”

“I would be honored, Your Majesty,” he bowed, low and respectful.

“No, wait,” Felix stopped them hastily. He didn’t want  _ Glenn  _ to take his job, do it better than he did, and have yet one more thing he could add to his list of being superior! If the only other option was Glenn, he’d just have to stick it out. “I… I think he has become accustomed to me. Give me more time with him, I’ll make him strong, Your Majesty, I swear it.”

Edelgard hesitated. She cared very much for her brother and worried that sending Felix, who was clearly inexperienced and a bit testy in taking care of Dusklings had already been a huge mistake. She was taking a risk, putting Dimitri in Felix's claws, but she had heard a great many things from Glenn about him, and so she sat back with a deep breath.

"Very well. Return to him and ensure that he feeds well and grows strong. I will send Glenn periodically to check on his progress."

Felix's mouth twisted in badly concealed agony at that, but he bowed to her, wishing he hadn't come to give an honest report in the first place.

"Of course."

* * *

"Oh,  _ this  _ is what you meant by your 'den'," Hilda sighed, shaking her head as she stepped over a rotten plank on the floor of the cottage. "You can't  _ possibly  _ live here, it's disgusting! There are  _ rats,  _ Dimitri.  _ Rats." _

Dimitri had not minded the rats. In all honesty, the night before, they had kept him company since they did not fear the patterns of Dusk on his skin. He watched Hilda, Holst, and Sylvain peer around his den and wondered if he was supposed to strike now. Felix hadn't told him what to do when they came back to his den. He had filled his stomach, but his  _ power  _ was empty and he hungered, starving. He could smell their blood, pulsing through the soft flesh of their bodies and he licked his lips nervously. He had never had to fight. He didn't know how. He should wait for Felix. Yes. That seemed prudent.

"Well," Holst sighed, scratching the back of his head as he pondered. "It's in rough shape, but it could be fixed up if given some time and materials."

_ "Rats,  _ Holst!" Hilda hissed.

"So get him a barn cat," Sylvain shrugged. "Besides," he smiled at Dimitri, inexplicably drawn to him. "Helping out's just what neighbors do, right? Surely you guys could spare some wood and tools? I don't know anything about building, but I could try and patch the place up."

"Dedue does!" Hilda piped up. "Dedue knows  _ everything.  _ He can cook, clean, build, paint, grow crops, you name it! And you should see his paintings, they're just  _ gorgeous!  _ He gave me one for my birthday, a little purple field of lavender flowers, it's hanging in my room next to--" 

"Thank you, Hilda." Holst turned to Dimitri, the new stranger of their small community. He was extremely wary of the man, though he couldn't put his finger on why. It was more than the fact that he seemed to have some sort of amnesia. There was something sinister, something too deep and empty about those blue eyes of his. But he didn’t want to turn away someone in need, that wasn’t who he was. "Well, what do you think? We can help you fix the place up and you can stay here for as long as it takes you to remember. But you'll have to work eventually. We can't supply you with food and supplies every day, understand?"

Dimitri hadn’t asked for any of those things in the first place. “Yes?” he asked, not sure what he was agreeing to. Felix already provided for him, he didn’t need any help from them, especially when he was priming them to eat later. “I will be staying here, it’s my den…”

“Great!” Hilda clapped her hands together. “We’re getting a lot of new people, so the town will be  _ way  _ more lively. Hey, why don’t we have a barn-raising? Or whatever you call it?” The two men and the one Duskling present stared at her. “You know, like a  _ party!”  _ she scoffed, exasperated. “Nothing interesting’s happened in months, and everyone can bring a little housewarming gift to help him get started here! Holst, you can give him some wood and tools, Dedue can fix up this nasty place, Mercedes can knit him a quilt!”

“You don’t knit quilts, Hilda.”

“Whatever!” She fussily waved that detail away. As far as she was concerned, her brother was being a total downer. “But wouldn’t it be fun?” she pouted. “And it would help our sweet new neighbor if everyone brought a gift, right? And then he could meet everyone!”

Sylvain folded his arms. “It  _ does  _ sound nice. What do you think, Holst?”

Holst nodded. “It’s a good idea for once.” (He ignored Hilada’s  _ “Hey!”)  _ “What day works for you, Dimitri?” he asked kindly, tapping his boot against the floorboards. They creaked but they weren’t rotten yet, this place seemed to have a good foundation. Holst hadn’t even known this place was here, partly separated from Sparrow Town down an unused little road. Something felt weird about that too.

“What about Saturday?” Hilda clapped her hands together. “I bet Ashe would make lemonade! And Bernadetta will make her amazing ice cream!”

Holst laughed. “Getting her to come would be a feat.”

“If anyone can, it’s Hilda,” Sylvain grinned.

Dimitri felt strange watching them. He listened to them talk amongst themselves, planning this welcoming party on his behalf, totally bewildered by the events and the way they interacted. Suddenly, he missed his Mother so painfully, missed Winter, Edelgard. His chest felt tight and he clutched it, wondering how he had managed to be attacked by them without even noticing it. Were humans so formidable?

“Dimitri?” Sylvain suddenly cut through his train of thought. “You okay?”

He looked up, the spell broken. “Yes, I… I want to sleep.” Sleep, not die, Felix had already taught him that.

“Oh, sure,” Sylvain said quickly. “Yeah, um… you going to be comfortable? Warm? Oh wait, here.” He unclasped his cloak, a handsome blue-green affair affixed with fur at the collar with a golden clasp. It was one of the things he owned that made him seem so out of place here. “For a blanket. Saturday, I’m sure someone will help you get an actual mattress and pillows and stuff,” he smiled, handing it over. Struck dumb, Dimitri took the cloak, staring at it and marveling at its softness as he rubbed it between his fingers. “Anyway, we’ll let you be. You have a good night, all right?”

“Yes, let us know if there’s anything you need,” Holst nodded, stepping around the splintered planks and back out onto the road.

“Watch out for rats,” Hilda whispered, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she hurried out, leaving him alone. “Good night, Dimitri!”

Dimitri stood there in the wreckage of the old cottage holding Sylvain’s fine cloak and staring at the hole where the wall used to be. He was hungry and alone. He’d failed to devour them when it had been such a good opportunity to do so; no doubt Felix would be disappointed in him. But also, he should have devoured them to keep them close, he thought miserably. He had the strangest urge to follow them, now standing there alone. Instead, he curled up on the floor, dragging the cloak around his shoulders more for the closeness than the feeling of warmth, and tried to sleep.  _ Mother… _

For the first time, he wept.

* * *

It was somewhere far to the southeast in a forest that was nearly always filled with the pure light of dawn that the Queen of Summer resided. Having declared herself and all of her Court an enemy of Winter and the Duskmother’s children, she protected humanity as best she could from their darkness with the few remaining warriors she had. The Summer Court was dying; it was inevitable, given they fought to protect humanity which was an unpopular thing for beings so powerful to do. So many of her fellow Summerlings had fallen prey to the Duskmother’s children and their vassals from the Winter Court that her own Court had become small and frightened. But her mission had not changed, not even now. She would not waver until she, too, fell prey to them.

After all, her mother had loved humanity so, and Seiros, Queen of Summer, had made it her life’s purpose to continue protecting them.

She rose from her fitful slumber in the meadow, letting the dandelions and dustmotes swirl around her in the sunlight. The way her scales shone was opalescent after each dark night ended, giving her the appearance of a living, breathing rainbow. She turned her muzzle in the direction of her morning-time visitor, her most faithful and most valued warrior.

“Khalid,” she sighed, her powerful breath neatly knocking over the flowers.

In truth, he was not the most faithful warrior at all, but she believed him to be and that was what mattered. Khalid wasn’t sure he wanted to slaughter a race of Dusklings  _ or  _ let humanity perish, so he was perpetually living on the fence. After all, they were both living creatures, and it wasn’t like the creatures of Dusk slaughtered for fun… most of them. It was only the circle of life, something which Khalid respected more than the divide of the Winter and Summer Courts. He was never an ‘us-versus-them’ type.

“You called for me?” he asked, bowing his great antlered head, the delicate bend of his furry forelegs denoting his respect for her.

The dragon pulled herself up, weary from a fight she had narrowly escaped from the week before against Edelgard, Winter’s new queen and a ferocious warrior in her own right, despite only being a year old for a Duskling. They were getting stronger. She had to find a way to weaken their forces or it would all be over, much sooner than anticipated. “Khalid,” she shook her great head, loosing the small, startled creatures who slept on the ridges of her brow. “A new Duskling has descended upon the world.”

“Where?” he asked coolly, touching his hand to the great bow strapped across his back, made from the horn of Seiros’ mother and gifted to him by Seiros herself.

“In the valley of Sundark,” she groaned, stretching her neck. “We must not let them join forces with Edelgard or she will become unstoppable.”

Khalid pressed a hand over his heart. “I will stop them, Seiros.”

“I know you will.”

Khalid galloped fast over hill and vale, his hooves striking the earth and leaving no trace of his passing but a few awestruck human children that no one would believe. He didn’t know if he would be killing this one or not. More than half of the Duskmother’s children he’d faced lately had been powerless, pitiable creatures who still needed the help of the Winter fey to survive, hadn’t even fed yet. So he’d chased them far away, gave them a stern warning, and left them be. He was not in the business of destroying those who could hardly fight back. And the Winter fey who stuck up for them, well… he greatly rivaled them in power, so it felt a bit like hunting rather than a power struggle. He wasn’t about that either, hunting fellow fey.

Two of the Dusk children had been so grateful that he spared them that they promised to repay him someday. He didn’t expect that to ever come to pass, but the point was that it didn’t matter. They weren’t so different, Summer and Winter, human and Duskling. If only they could learn to live side by side…

Perhaps that was impossible since one species needed to feast upon the other to survive. But he wasn’t so sure about that either.

He looked up at a herd of deer who had joined his run and smiled, feeling the thrill of being out on a job again. He wondered what awaited him at the end of this journey.

* * *

“Yes, but why do you have his  _ cloak!?”  _ Felix hissed at Dimitri, who was sitting, cowed, in the middle of the cottage wreckage, the cloak wrapped around him.

“He gave it to me.”

Felix had the distinct urge to claw open his own face. Instead, he rubbed his temples. “So let me get this straight. You convinced the villagers to come back here--”

“Well, they followed me…”

“--throw you a party--”

“I never asked for it…”

“--and on top of that,” Felix snapped, raising his voice over Dimitri’s. “You let them give you their cloak as a blanket? Did I get all that right?” He hadn’t even been gone that long.

Dimitri waited until he was sure Felix was done. “Sh-should I have devoured them then?” he asked, having thought for sure that he had done what Felix would have suggested.

“No, no,” he sighed, exasperated both with Dimitri and himself. He needed to get his temper under control, make nice with the creature, or when Glenn got here to check on them he might very well suggest that Felix was abusive towards Edelgard’s brother and he did  _ not  _ want to be on that woman’s bad side. “Listen, you… you did fine. If you had devoured them, it would be suspicious to the townsfolk. In fact, the party is probably a good idea.” Loathe as he was to admit it. “You can practice being human, observe them up close, learn to blend in.” He stared at the cloak. “So they pitied you, huh? We can use that,” he mused.

“How so?”

Felix paced in the small space, the splinters no danger to his talons. “Most Dusk creatures use their  _ charm  _ to lure humans to them when they’re too weak to hunt them. You seem to lack that sort of…” He paused. “Well, for now, let’s just say you have a different kind of charm. Even though you’re bigger than most humans, it seems like they find you helpless.” He wouldn’t bother pointing out how much he agreed with that. “That’s a good thing. They will naturally be drawn to helping you, won’t suspect anything when people start going missing.”

Dimitri nodded as if he understood, not wanting to anger him again. “So… should I lure one of them away at the party?”

Felix pursed his lips. “That’s… not a bad idea. The focus will be mostly on you so that will clear you of suspicion. I’ll do the luring for the party, you just mingle with them. Earn their trust. Once you devour one human, you should be strong enough to do it the second time.” Not to mention it might actually awaken some of his latent Dusk power. He  _ did  _ have the marks, after all. Perhaps they just needed a little boost.

A sudden shift of the ground beneath the small lift of the cottage alerted them both to potential danger. Felix tensed, his wings spreading, ready to take off out the hole in the wall, but when he saw Dimitri crouch low in preparation and curiosity, he remembered his real task here was protecting  _ him. _ Hissing, he shot across the room as something large scrabbled beneath them, scratching at the floorboards. He pressed Dimitri against the wall, who shouted in alarm as the barrel of feathers smacked into him.

And then the scratching stopped.

“Oh… who put this wood here?” The voice was muffled by the floorboards, a lazy and half-lamenting drawl.

Felix scowled downwards. “Who are you?” he snapped, clenching his fists together. “You’re trespassing on Dusk domain!” It was sort of true. Dusk domain was a territory a Duskling claimed for their hunting grounds, and Sparrow Town would  _ eventually  _ become Dimitri’s, so.

There was another pause. “Dusk domain? Oh. Well, this is where I was buried so it isn’t really my fault. Can’t really leave if you don’t help me out and while I’d  _ love  _ to go back to sleep, there’s a family of groundhogs who made their burrow here and they keep me up all night with their incessant  _ chattering.” _

Dimitri relaxed. Whoever it was, they didn’t seem like much of a threat to him. Felix, however, did not. “We’re not helping you, whoever you are!” he bristled, the ruff of feathers at his shoulders and the back of his neck making him look oddly cute and puffy, Dimitri thought.

“Well, then it seems I have no choice but to annoy you into it,” came the long yawn of the creature below. “I used to be a scholar, you know. I can talk for  _ hours  _ about the subject of Dusk and Dawn, if you like. They’re two very different factions, but not many know that they actually came about as the result of a singular debate between the Sun and the Moon. That’s not true, of course, that’s just local mythology. Or, at least it was local five hundred years ago. Plus however many decades I’ve been down here. To be honest, I don’t really know how long I’ve been buried, so I hope you’ll excuse any information that is woefully out of date. The truth of the matter is that it all started millennia ago--”

Dimitri looked at Felix, unable to hide his amusement. “We should probably help him out, don’t you think?” he asked quietly.

Felix was considering helping the stranger out by killing it, but technically he was under orders from Dimitri, so he had to do what  _ he  _ wanted. “There’s no way. He must be a Summer Court spy.” Dimitri didn’t even know what that meant.

“Oh, the Summer Court, now  _ that’s  _ a fascinating topic,” the voice continued, seeming to be perked up by the subject itself.

Felix groaned. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Fine,  _ fine,  _ we’ll help you. Just stop talking.”

“Very well, but I really do have a lot of knowledge on the Courts--” Felix slammed his talons on the floor to shut him up, but it didn’t work. “Well,  _ that  _ was rude. It seems someone has a certain temper issue they need to work out.”

Felix flew out of the cottage to find an opening under the deck to get this creature to get out and shut up and never return. Dimitri, however, knelt on the floorboards to get closer. “Do you know anything about the Duskmother?” he asked.

“The Duskmother? Oh, of course. She’s older than the earth itself, actually. They say she found this rock filled to the brim with life and decided it would be a good feeding ground for her children, so she disguised herself as a smooth rock that humans mistook to be the moon. The truth is, of course, that this is all folklore. The moon is just a rock, just that, and the Duskmother too is a legend--hey,  _ hey!  _ Stop that, that’s my arm you’re yanking!”

Felix had gotten a hold of something sticking out of a hole and pulled until something came free of the dirt. When he realized he was holding the grey flesh of a human corpse’s arm, he blanched in disgust.

“Yes, that  _ does  _ tend to happen quite a bit,” the voice sighed. “It’s rather difficult to stitch oneself up underground without materials, you know. May I have that back please?”

Dimitri followed Felix outside and, seeing the arm, peeked under the deck. Like Felix, his eyes adjusted well to the dark and he saw a human head poking out from under the freshly turned earth, a pale, slender face with big green eyes and long hair smeared with dirt, strewn with pebbles. “Ah, I’m Linhardt, by the way,” the head spoke to him, bowing as best as a head could. “Linhardt von Hevring. And given the fact that I now see the both of you are clearly not human, not to mention the fact that I have somehow managed to come back to life, perhaps that folklore might be somewhat true, hm?  _ Fascinating.” _

It took a lot of straining to fit under the deck and dig for Linhardt to come up all the way, that is until Dimitri discovered a rather unique new power of his in which he lifted the entire deck in his frustration for Felix to get under. Felix was delighted by this newfound strength, although the deck was utterly broken now. Soon, Linhardt von Hevring stood, having put most of his pieces back together until he resembled a human nearly perfectly… but for the greying flesh and the fact that he was holding one of his arms in the other.

“Well, this is simply  _ delightful,”  _ he said, and he seemed to mean it. “Who would have thought that experiment actually worked?”

“What experiment?” Felix growled. “Scram! You’re on Dusk land!”

Dimitri held up his hand. “Wait, Felix, wait. He seems to know a lot of things, don’t you think? He could be useful.”

“Useful?” Linhardt looked dismayed, trying to fit his other arm back into his socket. “I’d really rather find another place to nap… Ugh, I’m all in rags. I suppose even a finely made suit is bound to decay.”

Dimitri found he rather liked this person. He didn’t sense any blood from him--nothing edible anyway, so it was difficult to believe he was human. “My name is Dimitri, and this is Felix,” he offered helpfully.

“Pleasure,” Linhardt sighed. “Hm. You seem to be some sort of… bird creature?” he squinted at Felix, who looked highly offended.   
_ “I am a warrior fey of the Winter Court,” _ he seethed.

_ “Charming.  _ And, er…” He looked Dimitri up and down. “You look human but something about you seems off. What exactly are you?”

Dimitri glanced at Felix. “I’m… the Duskmother’s child. One of them.”

“You don’t say?” He finally managed to fit his arm back in. “Well, I seem to be some sort of dead scholar. Only not dead. Not alive either, I’d wager. Sort of…  _ un _ dead, if you will. Say, is there another place near here you’d recommend for a nap? Preferably a place with a hole so I don’t have to dig? I’d love to study the both of you in full, but digging for hours has made me woefully tired. Truthfully,” he yawned, covering his mouth with a hand covered in lichens, “I napped in between digging stints too.”

Dimitri spoke before Felix could banish the undead thing. “You could sleep in my den,” he offered, much to Felix’s despair. “It’s not very comfortable yet, but I think Hilda said something about a mattress soon.”

“Wonderful, I  _ sincerely  _ appreciate the hospitality. Well, good night!” And just like that, he ambled in an awkward jumble, a bit of a weird interplay between his disjointed limbs into the cottage, immediately laid himself down, and spoke no more.

  
  



	4. Lemonade and Jam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri meets more of the people of Sparrow Town and laments what he might lose if he devours them all; specifically the wonderful food they make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the party (because more than 5,000 words a day is rough, guys!)

For all the humans involved, Saturday was the best day to throw a party, but the bright sunny weather was making Dimitri wince every time he mistakenly turned towards the sun and it wasn’t even fully up yet. They had, of course, arranged that the party would begin at ten, when the sun could be fully viewed and the light banished the leftover shadows from the forests back to the trees, but before that, Felix was still schooling Dimitri on how to appear and act around everyone.

“I considered finding you better clothes, but the more pitiful you look, they better,” Felix mused aloud to himself, pacing in a slow fashion, given the stalking nature of his talons. “I won’t be seen, of course, and you’re not to mention me at all. You live here alone, remember?”

Dimitri nodded, glancing back into his den at the snoring Linhardt. They had not established much of him, and in the past two days, he had only woken once, when Felix had shoved him into the bottom of the dry well when Hilda and Sylvain had come the day before to deliver some food, given that ‘it looked like Dimitri needed a good meal.’ “What about Linhardt?” he asked.

Felix rolled his eyes. “ _He_ won’t be here,” he snapped over the quiet din of the undead’s nap. There were worse guests, he supposed, especially given that his presence was apparently soothing to Dimitri. The Duskling found he rather liked having someone to curl up against at night, and while Linhardt was by no means as warm as his mother’s maw, it was comforting to just know _someone_ was there. Felix never stayed at night. He went back to the Winter Court, Dimitri presumed, or at least far enough away that he could no longer sense him.

“Wouldn’t he pass for human?” Dimitri piped up. After all, though he didn’t _smell_ human, he thought he looked human enough. Besides, humans couldn’t smell, right?

Felix snorted. “Please, not a chance. He looks dead and he’s got stitching around his neck.”

Dimitri nodded back at him. “I tried to help him with the stitches,” he said. “But apparently, my hands were too clumsy. That’s what he said.”

“Yes, yes, fine, whatever. Can you just _pay attention?”_ Felix folded his wings behind his back once the flapping of them got Dimitri quiet again. “Your job is simply to blend in. You don’t have to do anything but talk to the humans and pretend you’re one of them. Agree with everything they say, eat everything they hand you, and take every gift you’re given with gratitude. Understand?”

“And say ‘thank you,’ right?”

“Yes. That’s how humans express gratitude.” Felix paused, looking Dimitri over. Surely no human could find him threatening. _He_ didn’t even find him threatening, and he knew what Dimitri was (potentially) capable of. Despite the raw display of monstrous strength the Duskling had begun to display, his disposition seemed to remain irritatingly naive, and Felix’s already thin patience was growing thinner. But he held out; he had to. Once Dimitri could do this on his own, Felix would be able to prove to both Edelgard _and_ Glenn that he was worthy of giving power to. Hell, if he could even get the strength Dimitri seemed to possess, he’d be unstoppable, he’d be an even more powerful force than Glenn, he’d be--

“Felix?”

“What?” Jolted from his reverie, Felix blinked down at the Dusk child sitting on the porch and folded his arms.

“I was wondering,” Dimitri asked, scratching nervously at his cheek. “Er… which human are you going to be luring?”

Felix raised a curious brow. “Whichever one is easiest to lure and will least be missed. Why?”

Dimitri nodded as if that made perfect sense, and it did. “Well, I was thinking, could you maybe not lure Sylvain?”

Felix didn’t even know which one _was_ Sylvain, but the question rankled him. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Dimitri shrugged his broad shoulders, brow furrowed as he tried to think of his own reasoning. “I like him. He gave me this cloak. I want him to be around for the whole party.”

Felix’s bright eyes narrowed dangerously. If Dimitri was starting to show favoritism for a human, that could be very good--or very bad, depending on what his intentions were. It could be that Sylvain’s blood smelled the richest; Felix wouldn’t know, he’d never met the man. But if Dimitri was talking about his cloak, his damned _company…_

“Just…” Felix clapped his clawed hand over his eyes in exasperation. “Just don’t _worry_ about that and focus on what I told you!” he hissed. Dimitri was immediately cowed, nodding his head along with Felix’s demands. “Good. All right. Everyone’s going to be here in an hour or so. I’m going to go ahead and hide so you can get ready for them to come, okay?”

“Do you still want me to remove the debris?”

“Yes. Humans live in clean, orderly spaces. They don’t _have_ nests.”

Dimitri could not imagine trying to rest or sleep or feel safe without a nest. What did humans sleep in? But as soon as Felix winged off, he obeyed, shuffling back into his comfortable den, which he had filled with a few soft branches for structure, leaves for comfort, and feathers and fur for warmth. Some of the gathered materials were from beasts Felix had hunted for him; small things that he said wouldn’t be missed like birds and foxes. He’d been told that the humans of Sparrow Town (one in particular) tracked the comings and goings of the local deer population, so he couldn’t have them yet, but Dimitri was honestly just content to watch them pass through anyway. He sat perfectly still sometimes as deer wandered in. Sometimes, a wandering buck, sometimes a whole herd of them. And once, a doe and her two small fawns, nibbling cautiously at the overgrown grass. What a happy morning that had been.

As soon as he started taking his nest apart piece by piece to preserve its components for later rebuilding, Linhardt awoke to complain. “What are you doing?” he groaned, pawing at his eyes and sitting up, stretching just far enough to move his limbs but not enough to tear them off again.

“Felix said the nest has to be moved,” he sighed apologetically. Felix had _actually_ told him to get rid of it entirely, but he just couldn’t bear that.

“But I’m sleeping in it,” Linhardt protested.

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri paused. But he didn’t want to disobey Felix.

“No, it’s fine,” the undead went on to sigh as he rolled from the cluster and to his feet. “I’ll just sleep on the floor then.” No way was he going to promise to help. He wasn’t very fond of physical labor of any kind, even when Felix bitched at him that he should help with things to ‘earn his keep.’ He’d just keep whining until Felix told him to get lost.

“Actually, you can’t.” Dimitri hefted up a particularly large branch that he was fond of. When he let his claws out sometimes, he liked to scratch at it, and it still bore leaves attached from its tree having been struck by lightning and cracked down the middle. He definitely didn’t want to get rid of this one. “We’re having the party today, remember?”

“Ah, yes.” Linhardt scratched his chin and yawned again, something that Dimitri found made him equally as sleepy and almost compelled him to copy the gesture. “Well, it is a shame I won’t be able to attend. I _would_ so like to see how the local folklore has flourished in my absence, however… I suppose I’d be a bit of a shock, walking around and talking, wouldn’t I?”

“So Felix says,” Dimitri shrugged, trying (and failing) to gather handfuls of leaves, having nothing with which to sweep them out. 

“You certainly do whatever he says, don’t you?”

Dimitri looked up again, cocking his head to the side curiously. “I have to. He’s protecting me. Teaching me how to lure humans.”

“Still.” Linhardt looked around for another place to sleep as he peered out into the growing sunlight. “I have to admit, I feel this… _need_ to stop you.”

“You do?”

“Well, I _was_ human once. It would behoove me to warn my fellow humans that you’re planning to lure them here and devour them, wouldn’t it?”

Dimitri thought about it. “I don’t know. Does it?”

“I don’t actually know,” Linhardt sighed. _“I’m_ dead after all, so maybe I don’t owe them anything. Still, it feels rather _cruel_ of me not to try and save their lives. Although I’d get a lot of fascinating firsthand research if I saw you lure and devour one of them. But I guess even I’m not that selfish. So I’ll stay here, all right? Warn them of Felix’s plan.”

Dimitri stood and blinked at him. “I suppose you can,” he frowned. What was he to do? He didn’t want to stop Linhardt from doing what he wanted, but he also didn’t want to starve to death, or worse, piss Felix off. “Well… why don’t you just make them come back to life?” he asked. “That way we both get what we need, right?”

Linhardt contemplated this. “You pose an _excellent_ solution, Dimitri. After all, if I could make this work once, I see no reason why it shouldn’t work again. To be honest, though…” He tapped his grey lip. “I have absolutely _no_ idea how it worked or when. All I know is that when I woke up, I wasn’t _this_ decomposed. I know I don’t need air for sure, since I would have long suffocated if that were the case, although dunking a body without blood circulation to keep me intact in water also seems like a bad plan. Also the _bloating.”_

When he looked up again, Dimitri was merely blinking at him, clearly not understanding. “The point is, you’re right,” Linhardt sighed. “There’s a lot more research to be done. Will you be killing them painfully?”

Dimitri shrugged his shoulders, and Linhardt marveled at just how massive they were. “I don’t know. I’ve never killed anyone before.”

“Well, could you _try_ not to do it painfully? Then I won’t feel so guilty.” Pondering that a moment, Dimitri nodded. He could certainly _try_ anything. “Good. Then I bid you farewell. I’m off to find a cozy little nest in the forest that might suit me. Maybe a big hollow tree or something.” Dimitri watched him shuffle out, cursing his ungainly footing as he sought to traverse the brambles and other foliage. Dimitri rather liked him, he thought. He talked a lot, and much of it he didn’t understand, but he enjoyed his company more than Felix’s piercing eyes.

Of course, he’d take Felix over _nobody._ He’d take anyone over _nobody,_ and he didn’t even know what loneliness was yet.

He had just managed to shove the last of his nest under the partially-collapsed deck when someone first arrived. It was no one he recognized, to his dismay, but he tried to remember Felix’s instructions and smiled nervously wide, showing his teeth a little _too_ much. It was lucky for him that his fangs had not come in.

“W-welcome,” he said to the pair and was immediately full of despair that one of them was even bigger than himself. That could be dangerous, couldn’t it?

“Welcome,” the man returned, nodding his head, and at the sudden glint of green in his eye, Dimitri realized he _did_ remember him. It was the man across the stream that one morning, the one who had waved to him, the tall one that looked like a mountain. He blinked, uncertain, staring at him, hardly noticing the other stranger.

“Uh, hello!” Dimitri started, looking down at the much smaller human. Ah, but he’d seen him too! The one who had been holding hands with this first one. “I’m Ashe Ubert, it’s a pleasure to meet you! And this is Dedue, Dedue Molinaro!” He seemed so upbeat and cheerful; Dimitri instantly decided he liked him, and smiled in return, seeing as there was almost no helping it.

“A pleasure,” Dedue, the large one, repeated, smiling as he ducked his head. They were both holding things.

“Oh, uh…” Dimitri quickly stuck out his hand, remembering the manners he had learned, although he very nearly knocked the pot out of Dedue’s hand as he did it. “My name is Dimitri! It’s so good to meet you!” He had practiced that line, over and over, under Felix’s hawkish scrutiny for nearly an hour.

Dedue thankfully managed to pull his gift out of the way before it was knocked to the ground and broken. But he was the first to clasp Dimitri’s hand, strong and warm, seeming to think nothing of his awkwardness, or at the very least, not mentioning it. “Yes, welcome to Sparrow Town.”

“What? Where?”

“The name of the town!” Ashe beamed, taking Dimitri’s hand next. His was smaller, softer, almost… delicate to hold. “It’s Sparrow Town! We’re so excited to have you, we don’t often get new citizens or even visitors, and now two in a row if you count Sylvain!”

 _Sylvain._ Dimitri’s heart leapt and he coughed, unsure of why that happened. “Sylvain lives here,” he repeated, happy that he’d see him again. He had been so kind, adding to his nest with the cloak. Of course, being that he was a beast and a creature of the Dusk, it was ingrained in him that anyone who should add to his nest was a treasured comrade, was even _family._ But things that are ingrained were often not examined or even known.

“You know, I think he does, actually,” Ashe pursed his lips. “Hilda mentioned that he had come to stay, at least for a while.”

Dedue nodded, but he was only half paying attention, too busy scanning the surrounding meadow. What must have once been a thriving farm was now a tangled mess of weeds. The field was now just a reclaimed part of the forest, the ground overtaken with crawling ivy and thorny brambles. And the cottage didn’t bear thinking about. It almost seemed like enough work to knock it down and rebuild it from the ground up. But Holst had mentioned that he didn’t have a lot of materials to spare when he’d come over to talk to them yesterday, so Dedue would just have to make it work.

“Oh, right, we have gifts!” Ashe said, gesturing to his husband.

“Yes.” Dedue held up the big flower pot. “This is a plant from my homeland,” he said quietly. “It does not require much care and it is very pretty to look at. If you keep it outside or near a window, it should thrive.” To Dimitri, it just looked like an enormous container with dirt in it, but Felix had instructed him to say thank you for everything he received, so he reached for it, eyes wide.

“Thank you,” he said. “Er… homeland?” Was Dedue also not from this world? He _had_ to be curious about that.

Dedue blinked. It was so difficult to imagine that someone might exist who didn’t immediately categorize him as an outsider, let alone someone in the Kingdom who did not recognize a man from Duscur. He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“And we have more gifts too!” Ashe smiled, holding up what he had brought, which appeared to the Duskling to be a glass vase full of some strangely yellow and sour-smelling liquid. “I make lemonade at home, everyone loves it! Since you don’t have a cellar or an icebox, I brought it for the party so we can all share! And Dedue left our wagon back there,” he gestured towards the general direction of the road. “We brought wood, nails, tools… things like that to help patch up the cottage which…” He looked, fretting, in the direction of the den. “Seems to be missing a wall.”

Dimitri looked at him, confused. “Well… thank you?” he asked more than stated, not really sure why his den would need another wall. He had seen and been inside Hilda’s dwelling and it had felt like a trap the whole time.

“Sure! Do you have a table we could put the food on?”

Dimitri perked up, looking around for food. “A table? N-no, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Hm…” Ashe rubbed his chin.

“We brought the picnic blanket,” Dedue suggested to him. “Back in the wagon. I’ll bring it around.” He turned and walked off, leaving Dimitri alone with Ashe.

“It’s lovely weather for a party, don’t you think?” The human bounced on his heels, undeterred by the awkward silence. “What with summer coming up, I thought it would be too hot and all the ants would be out!”

Dimitri didn’t remember being instructed to say anything about the weather. “It’s too bright,” he said instead, opting for the truth. “I prefer the dark.”

“Oh yeah?” Ashe looked at him, but it was not a cold or unfriendly look, at least. “Dedue doesn’t mind the dark, but everyone else here seems to be afraid of it.”

“Why?”

An eerie wind passed through Ashe’s shoulders, it seemed, since he shivered in it. _“Ghosts,”_ he whispered.

“What’s a ghost?” Dimitri asked, leaning closer to Ashe since Ashe had leaned into him.

“Er, l-let’s not talk about that!” Ashe quickly answered, waving his free hand frantically. “I-I’d rather not spoil this lovely day with that sort of talk! So!” he grinned, seeming determined to change the subject. “Hilda says you lost your memory! That’s rough, I imagine, but I’m sure it will come back!”

“Oh, hey Ashe!”

Dimitri was freed from the pressures of steering the conversation as a familiar voice, sight, _smell_ entered the picture. Hilda, Holst, and the wonderful Sylvain were here, riding in some sort of cart with a weird, four-legged creature hitched to the front, pulling it behind. It seemed docile from what Dimitri could tell, but he hadn’t seen a beast like it yet and his whole body, all of his muscles, tensed for a fight. He wished he had Felix here to tell him what things were.

Sylvain was first to hop down and embrace Ashe. Again, Dimitri felt that strange stab of pain, longing to be the one Sylvain held, just like the Duskmother had held him…

“Dimitri, good to see you alive and well, man!” Sylvain approached, his arms open. Dimitri froze, determined not to mess up this moment as Sylvain swooped down and embraced him, but only for a fraction as long as he had done to Ashe before clapping his hand on his shoulder. It was like a hit, but it didn’t seem to be an attack, thank goodness. “Did you like the casserole yesterday? Hopefully I didn’t burn it too much?”

It had been utterly inedible, and Dimitri had thrown it away in the stream, but Felix had prepared him for this question. “It was delightful, thank you,” he said quietly, his chin lowered against his chest, unsure why it was so difficult to look Sylvain in the eye. Could it be that he wanted to devour him so badly that he didn’t want to feel guilty about it? He didn’t know. Feelings like ‘guilt’ or ‘shame’ didn’t have a place or a name in him yet, so he didn’t know what to do with them nor would he recognize them well even given a name.

“You don’t have to lie,” Hilda smiled, coming up behind Sylvain with another woman on her arm, taller and more waifish than herself. “Sylvain is an _awful_ cook.”

“Hey, come on!” Sylvain pouted and Dimitri flinched visibly, enough that they all stopped and looked at him.

“You okay?” Hilda asked kindly.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Just the ah… the sun.” Truthfully, he didn’t know what has caused it, other than seeing Sylvain make a sad expression. But why that caused such a visible, physical reaction, he couldn’t say.

They stared at him some more until Hilda cleared her throat. She was an excellent curator of the art of conversation, which was what gave her such clout in Sparrow Town. “Anyway! This is my super adorable girlfriend Marianne!”

The tall girl, one arm in Hilda’s and the other gently tucked over a hen that seemed content against her chest, gave a small curtsy, a gesture Dimitri didn’t recognize. “Marianne von Edmund. It’s nice to meet you,” she half-whispered, but Dimitri’s excellent hearing more than made up for that.

“It is nice to meet you too,” Dimitri said, but since her hands were full, he didn’t offer his own. “What… what is that?” It looked just like a fat bird.

“Oh…” Marianne looked down at her armful. “This is Rosie. Um… I-I thought, since you didn’t have any animals yet, she could lay you some eggs.”

Dimitri had absolutely no idea what she was saying. “Oh… thank you.”  
Hilda hummed thoughtfully. “She may have to live in your ‘den’ with you until you get a chicken coop,” she pointed out. “Are you okay with that, Dimitri?”

He was still staring at Rosie. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Holst jumped off the wagon too. “So you’ve met Marianne and Rosie, good, good. Well I’ve brought wood, Dedue and I will help you patch up your cottage today when everyone else gets here, what do you think?” he asked, hands on hips.

“I think that’s… good?”

“Good. So, uh….” He glanced around. “Guess I should’ve figured you didn’t have a table. That’s all right. We can use a blanket or the back of the wagon or something.”

“I baked cookies!” Hilda clapped gleefully. “Don’t worry, Sylvain didn’t have a hand in them!”

“Hilda, please…”

Their casual banter was relief for Dimitri as he stood and listened quietly. Ashe joined and soon they were all chatting together about this and that while Dimitri just listened, staring down at the ‘lemonade’ in his hand that Ashe had brought, finding its smell interesting. The taste was something so sour he could only sip at it, but he found he rather liked it, even consuming in such small quantities. If Ashe was the one Felix lured away, he would dearly miss the taste of this lemonade.

Dedue returned, pulling a wagon all by himself, but it didn’t seem to be difficult for him at all. As he started unloading the wood, however, Hilda sighed. “Oh, Dedue! That looks so _heavy!_ Holst, Sylvain, help him out!” They eagerly moved to do their part, but since Hilda hadn’t told him to, Dimitri remained in the small circle with her, Marianne, and Ashe. “It’s _your_ party,” Hilda excused him anyway. “So you just relax and meet new folks, okay?”

“Ah… okay.”

More people arrived to help unload Dedue’s wagon; Dimitri was trying hard to remember all of their names, but it felt impossible. He remembered Raphael because he had given him a squeezing hug instead of shaking his hand (Dimitri had considered it was a possible attack at the time). He remembered Hubert and Ferdinand because Hubert was eyeing him behind long waves of dark hair as though he knew his secret, making him very nervous, and Ferdinand had loudly lamented that he hadn’t been allowed to gift Dimitri one of his fine ‘horses’ because as Hubert had told him ‘he didn’t have a stable to keep it in.’

After trying to memorize Leonie, Ignatz, Lysithea, Ingrid, and Annette, Dimitri just stopped trying. Some of them he was surely going to devour anyway, right? Perhaps all of them in time. It didn’t seem necessary to learn their names. And as many who seemed keen on talking to him seemed keen to talk to their neighbors too. Soon, he was included only as a curiosity and a formality; involved in the circles of chatter but not often prompted to speak. He was grateful for that.

“Dimitri.” He jumped a bit, nearly spilling his precious lemonade down his front, but it was only Dedue. “Would you please help me lay the spread?”

“S-sure,” he breathed, following Dedue away from the crowd and to the back of his wagon. There, he had laid a charming yellow-checkered blanket now that it was empty of the lumber. The lemonade, cookies, cakes, biscuits, fruits, and pies that everyone had brought were all laid there, making a rather sumptuous aroma.

“You looked overwhelmed,” Dedue said kindly to him, sitting at the wagon’s edge, patting the seat beside him. Dimitri sat.

“Perhaps a little,” he said quietly, relieved to be away from the noise. “I am not used to so many people.”

Dedue nodded like he understood, which endeared him to Dimitri a great deal. “It is all right. When I first arrived, they were very welcoming, but a bit loud for me,” Dedue agreed. “But they are good people.”

“They are?” What did that mean exactly? If they were good people, was he not supposed to be luring them? Was he supposed to find bad people to lure? Did Felix know they were good people?

“They are.” Dedue reached behind him and lifted a pan of yellowish biscuits. “Have you tried the cornbread? It goes well with the jam.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri took one and watched Dedue spread jam onto it for him. After a cautious bite and some thoughtful chewing, Dimitri nodded. “This is good.”

“Bernadetta must have been here,” Dedue noted, looking out into the trees. "She's the only one I know who makes jam this good."

Dimitri looked out into the trees too, wondering if Bernadetta had been the one to be lured away by Felix. He would miss the taste of this jam too, he thought a bit sadly. But he had to eat, that was his purpose here, so Felix had told him. To consume human blood, to grow stronger, strong enough to make them cower with fear. That was the nature of all of his siblings, after all. And he missed them dearly. He _had_ to get stronger so that he could join them. Had to.

He munched miserably on the cornbread and jam. 

Dedue glanced at him. "You do not look so happy," he pointed out. 

Dimitri cursed himself. Felix had _told_ him to smile and look happy, damn it all. "No, I am!" he shot back quickly, throwing in a smile for good measure that was too big by half. Dedue just blinked at him. 

"You do not have to pretend."

"But…" Dimitri's smile fell. "Felix says I have to."

"Who is Felix?" 

Dimitri tensed his shoulders. He shouldn't have said that… _now_ what? "A bird," he whispered, somewhat high-pitched. He had never lied before, not for real, except in telling Sylvain that his casserole had been delightful. But Dedue didn’t seem to think that was weird at all. He just nodded along, like Dimitri felt like he had been doing all day.

“I see. Pretending is… well, I suppose it has its uses. I prefer someone to be honest, even if they believe their feelings to be unpleasant.”

Dimitri was going to have a very difficult time understanding that.

“Well, don’t worry. When this party is over, you will have a bed at least, and shelter from the elements. Do you want to get started on the cottage?”

“You mean my den?” Dimitri asked, eyes straying back to it. He was apprehensive about what they might turn it into, but Felix had told him to go along with what they wanted, and so he would.

Dedue didn’t contradict him. He merely nodded and got to his feet, setting aside his own glass of lemonade. “Yes. We should prepare it for you before nightfall after all.”

Dimitri followed him, padding miserably behind and following his instruction to help him lift the long wooden planks. Holst, Sylvain, Ingrid, Leonie, and Raphael who had joined them after a minute marveled at his strength, surrounding Dimitri as he picked up the wood with ease. They were all demanding to know how he’d done it and he became so flustered that he nearly dropped it on his foot. But Dedue was the one to intervene, calmly reminding them that they wouldn’t be able to finish by dusk if they didn’t get started and so they dispersed, organized by Dedue’s instruction and Hilda’s encouragement. _Dusk,_ Dimitri thought wistfully.

Dimitri was becoming more and more grateful to Dedue. He liked Sylvain’s cloak, Ashe’s lemonade, Bernadetta’s jam. Would that all disappear if he devoured them, one by one?

“I shall assist you!” Ferdinand declared behind Dimitri, making him jump for the umpteenth time since they’d all arrived. Ferdinand was by far the loudest and most talkative of the bunch and that made Dimitri nervous, but he didn’t seem to be harmful in any way. If anything, his domestic partner, Hubert, was more unnerving to him, always watching, always… what? He seemed to be waiting for something from him, but Dimitri didn’t know what, unless Hubert knew about his plan? Felix’s plan?

He had been handing over wood to the others, watching them strip away rotten boards from his precious den and replace them with more sturdy materials. They worked well together, with Dedue, Ingrid, and Leonie being the most industrious by far, and as they worked, they talked so happily. It made Dimitri miss Edelgard so profoundly. They had never actually spoken; but then, in the maw of their Duskmother, they had never needed to. They existed side by side, fond, happy, just _being_ there.

Half the hole had been covered and Annette, who was painting it an attractive yellow, looked up when the sun was at its zenith. “Hey… has anyone seen Mercedes?”

“Oh, she probably forgot,” Hilda scoffed. “You know how she gets.”

And no one seemed concerned after that.

* * *

Mercedes, of course, _had_ forgotten about the party as she was wont to do, but she remembered halfway through the day and had wrapped up some of her pies for it, only to be waylaid by a strange shadow calling out to her from the trees. She wasn’t careless enough to follow a strange shadow into the forest _willingly_ but she found she was unable to resist the allure of the fey. To her credit, no human was able to. Now she was laid out, sleeping on the forest floor, leaves tangled in her hair while Felix watched over her, waiting for this accursed party to end. He was eager to get Dimitri to devour this one so he could see the presentation of the new power that was bound to come from it.

From afar, he watched the party unfold. Nearly all of the citizens of Sparrow Town were in attendance, which amounted to about thirty odd people, so even though it was during the day, it cleared Dimitri of suspicion, as well as the rest of the townsfolk. To that end, he had laid a convincing trail, that this young woman had merely walked off the path without struggle and disappeared into the woods. Not like that had never happened before; the people often talked about the ‘allure’ of the forest and might even send a search party. 

But they would never find her.

All he had to do now was wait.

  
  



End file.
